The Way It Should Be
by DJRocky99
Summary: I don't think there are any words to describe this thing, hehe. Rated PG-13 for languageadult situations. On hiatus -- see chapter 11 for details
1. Whorrific houses

Author: DJRocky99  
  
Description: I'm a sarcastic, cynical, occasionally humorous person who enjoys making fun of other things. The Moulin Rouge is good, but not good enough to escape my wrath...  
  
Disclaimer: All Moulin Rouge characters are owned * sniffle * by Baz Luhrman.  
  
Chapter One-Whoriffic (Get it? Sounds like horrific!) Whorehouses  
  
~=~=~=~=~  
  
There was a man  
  
A frighteningly enchanted man  
  
They say he hitchhiked very far, very far  
  
Thankfully though not near me  
  
Somewhat shy with a lazy eye  
  
But almost wise was he  
  
One unfortunate day  
  
One unfortunate day he passed my way  
  
While we spoke of many things  
  
Spools and strings  
  
This he said to me..  
  
"The greatest thing you'll ever know  
  
Is not to pay to see this...show!"  
  
(Christian as narrator): The Moulin Rouge...some people called it a dance hall. Others referred to it as a bordello. But I, for one, know what it really is: a whorehouse. No, no, not a warehouse...that's something entirely different. It was ruled over by Harold Zidler, one of THE scariest men in all of Paris. This was a place where the ugly and stupid came to play with the diseased and obnoxious creatures of the underwear world. Yes, they all pranced about with their knickers in the air. But the most beautiful of all of these (which isn't saying much, trust me,) was the woman I love, Satine, a courtesan (French for hooker.) She sold her body to men and her soul to the devil. They called her the "Diamond in the Rough." The woman I loved is...asleep. But who can blame her?  
  
I first came to Paris one year ago. It was 1899, the summer of tuberculosis. Err, of love, rather. I knew nothing of the Moulin Rouge, Harry Zidler, or Satine. And my life was a whole lot better that way. The world had been swept up by the Bohemian Restitution...ahh, Revolution. And I had traveled from London to be part of it. Silly me. On a hill near Paris was the village of Montmartre, and I had arrived in hopes of being this village's idiot. It was not as my father had said:  
  
(Christian's father): A law-abiding, peaceful, gorgeous village with lakefront property, nice homes, and a new school.  
  
(Christian as narrator again): It was the center of the Bohemian Revolution, full of artists, musicians, bums, slobs, cheats, robbers, prostitutes, and people living off of daddy's monthly allowances. They were known as the "Children of the Revolution." Yes, I had come to live a penniless existence...why or how, I wasn't sure of, but I had. I had come to write about truth, beauty, freedom and that which I believe in above all things...love!  
  
(Christian's father): Always this ridiculous obsession with love! And passion fruit too! And don't even get me started on this time when the only thing he'd listen to was Olivia Newton-John's "Hopelessly Devoted to You" song.  
  
(Christian as narrator): Oh do us all a favor and shut up Pops!  
  
(A/N: Oh boy...is this ever going be fun! Hehe!)  
  
(Djrocky99 as narrator): Christian reached into his pocket and pulled out a brand spanking new Palm Pilot and looked at his schedule.  
  
(Christian): Damn it! I have a hair appointment at Jean-Claude's at 4, and I still haven't fallen in love! Woe is me!  
  
(Djrocky99): Pathetic, isn't it? Christian knew he had to get this entire story over with quickly, because it was already 11 a.m.! At that very moment though, the thing his therapist told him would never happen, did: a midget dressed as a nun crashed through the roof.  
  
(Christian): What the hell?  
  
(Djrocky99): "What the hell?" is right, because the very next second, a narcoleptic Argentinean kicked open the door, and tangoed in with a cross dresser named Audrey who had purple hair.  
  
(Narcoleptic): Sorry to dizturb you, we ver just rehers-oh screw it. I'm not from Argentina, and it's pretty damn hard to talk with that accent. Let me try again.  
  
(Djrocky99): The Argentinean cleared his throat and decided to try again.  
  
(Narcoleptic): Sorry to disturb you, we were just rehearsing for a play upstairs, when Henri-Marie-Raymond-Toulouse-Lautrec-Montfa fell through the floor...or, through your roof, rather. Hope we didn't cause too much damage. Sorry if we did, because we're living a penniless existence and we can't pay for anything.  
  
(Djrocky99): Then, the Narcoleptic stuck his tongue out at Christian and righted the upside down midget, who had been caught by his habit on a spot of plaster that jutted out from the hole in the ceiling. The midget brushed himself of and proceeded to explain.  
  
(Toulouse [the midget]): It's set in Switzerland!  
  
(Djrocky99): Christian, who was in a bit of shock from all of this, stared blankly at the midget.  
  
(Christian): Pardon? What is?  
  
(Toulouse): The play! It's something very modern called "Horrific Horrific!"  
  
~=~=~=~=~=~  
  
A/N-Well, that wasn't half bad, if I do say so myself!  
  
Please R/R; I'll love you forever and ever if you do (but please, NO flaming.) This is my first MR fic, so be gentle ;-) 


	2. The Talented Mr Christian

Author: DJRocky99  
  
Description: I'm a sarcastic, cynical, occasionally humorous person who enjoys making fun of other things. The Moulin Rouge is good, but not good enough to escape my wrath...  
  
Disclaimer: Well, what can I say; Baz owns everything, still. My apologies to Ewan McGregor, Nicole Kidman, John Leguizamo, and every other character!  
  
Chapter Two-The Talented Mr. Christian  
  
Rewind---When we last left off, Christian had just learned of "Horrific Horrific," a play set in Switzerland, for whatever reason.  
  
~=~=~=~=~=~  
  
(Toulouse): It's a play called "Horrific Horrific"! Unfortunately, it is time for a lunch break, and we have yet to complete writing the play, which must be presented to the financiers at 1 o'clock, and our lead role played by the Narcoleptic, has just tangoed out of here with Audrey the cross dresser with purple hair.  
  
(Djrocky99): Toulouse dropped to his knees and took in an extremely deep breath, from lack of air during his run-on sentence.  
  
(Christian): I don't like your tone of voice, you midget! You don't honestly think I'm going to the play the part of a young sensitive Swiss poet named Goatherd do you?  
  
(Toulouse): Well, yes I do. And if you don't rehearse with me, I'll track down the Narcoleptic and have him tell you just HOW talented you are.  
  
(Djrocky99): At that, Toulouse shot an ungainly and unmanly glance at Christian, who turned immediately, so his...um, talent, was no longer noticeable. When Christian next spoke, his voice was unusually high:  
  
(Christian): Well, shall we stay here at my place or go back to your place?  
  
(Djrocky99): Christian immediately regretted saying this, for Toulouse's eyes lit up. Christian attempted to fix his error, but Toulouse cut him off.  
  
(Toulouse): Oh, you're a fine specimen of manhood, anywhere is fine with me.  
  
(Christian): I meant to rehearse, you pervert!  
  
(Toulouse): Oh, yes, right, I knew that. Let's go back upstairs, I suppose.  
  
(Djrocky99): Christian trembled with nervousness at the thought of being alone in a room with a midget dressed as a nun. He thought to himself:  
  
(Christian to self): Damn it! Dr. Wisenheimer assured me this would never happen!  
  
(Djrocky99): But happened it had. When they finally arrived upstairs in Toulouse's garret, Christian was pleased to see that there were people up there already. Many people, in fact: Audrey, the Narcoleptic, Sadie (a musician), and the Doctor (a bum). This brought great relief to poor Christian, who was still dazed and confused from watching a midget fall through his roof...that is, until the thought dawned on him that maybe they were ALL going to tell him about his talent.  
  
In an attempt to take everyone's mind off of his talent, including his own mind, he decided about now would be a great time to burst out into song.  
  
(Christian, at the top of his lungs): The hilllllllllsssss are aliveeeeeeeee with the sound of muuuuuuuusic!  
  
(Djrocky99): All of the Bohemians stopped, covered their ears, and stared up at him. He grinned that dorky boyish grin of his and decided to show off some more, not getting the point.  
  
(Christian, off key, at the top of his lungs): With songs they've sung for a thousand yearrrrs!  
  
(Djrocky99): He, again, grinned that geeky grin at them.  
  
(Christian): So, what do you think? Not bad for a Scotsman huh?  
  
(Bohemians, in unison): We thought you were from London!  
  
(Djrocky99): Christian replied sheepishly:  
  
(Christian): Yes, of course I'm from London. Just making sure you guys were paying attention, is all.  
  
(Djrocky99): Now all this time Audrey had been sitting in a corner with a curling iron, trying to do something, ANYTHING, with his hair.  
  
(Audrey): Oi vey, this is ridiculous! I need a drink!  
  
(Djrocky99): He/she threw the curling iron aside, right on the Narcoleptic, who had just fallen asleep. It sat there...and sat there...eventually burning a hole in his pants. He didn't seem to notice, however. Then Toulouse got his next bright idea.  
  
(Toulouse): Hey, I have a bright idea! Christian, you and Audrey should write the show together.  
  
(Djrocky99): Christian gave Audrey a funny look, and asked him if he really was the writer of the show.  
  
(Audrey): Yes, of course I am, can't you tell?  
  
(Christian, under his breath): No  
  
(Audrey): What was that?  
  
(Djrocky99): Christian, who was terrified of this grown man who pranced around looking like a woman, denied saying anything at all.  
  
(Audrey): Hey, we're out of absinthe. I'm going to run down to the "5 and dime" and pick one up.  
  
(Djrocky99): Audrey stormed out, slamming the door behind him...her.  
  
(Christian): Hey! This 1899, in France! There are no "5 and Dime"'s around here!  
  
(Audrey, muffled from behind the door): Oooops.  
  
(Djrocky99): At this, Christian smacked his hand to his forehead.  
  
(Toulouse): Sigh...we do have absinthe! But I'm glad we got rid of that freak.  
  
(Djrocky99): Christian thought to himself:  
  
(Christian): Hello, this is Toulouse. Hi...kettle? Yeah. You're black.  
  
(Toulouse): Well, with Audrey gone, looks like you're our writer now, hot shot.  
  
(Sadie): But how will we convince Zidler? You know how much he was looking forward to working with Audrey the cross dresser, don't you? (Djrocky99): But Toulouse had yet ANOTHER bright idea. This guy is on a roll, I tell ya. There simply is no stopping Toulouse. Hehehehe.  
  
(Toulouse): I've got it! We'll dress Christian up as a woman, transforming him into a cross dresser, and Zidler will be sure to love him! Literally!  
  
(Christian): Oh well that's just dandy. First a midget man dressed as a nun falls through my ceiling. Then, my door is broken down and tango-ed upon by a Narcoleptic Argentinean and a cross dresser named Audrey. And now you're telling me that you're going to dress me as a woman and send me to meet a man who likes that sort of thing?!  
  
(Djrocky99): All of the Bohemians looked at each other and then turned back to Christian.  
  
(Bohemians, again in unison): Yeah, basically.  
  
(Djrocky99): For the 2nd time that morning, Christian stared blankly at Toulouse.  
  
(Christian): Well, if that's the case, I can't do it. I cannot write the play for the Moulin Rouge or Harry Zidler and I most certainly cannot dress up like a woman. Hell, I'm not even sure I'm a Revolutionary after all.  
  
(Djrocky99): Each Bohemian's jaw hit the floor.  
  
(Bohemians, in unison, as always): What do you mean not a Revolutionary? Do you believe in freedom, beauty, truth, and of course, love?  
  
(Christian): Yes, yes, yes, and duh! Love is like...helium! Both love and helium do strange things to your voice! Love is a many splintered thing...once it's under your skin, it's difficult to get out!  
  
(Toulouse): See, you can't fool us too much! You're the voice of the children of the Revolution!  
  
(Christian): Yeah, right, ok, so...what is this absinthe stuff anyways?  
  
(Djrocky99): Toulouse pulled out a large glass bottle full of green after- shave looking stuff.  
  
(Toulouse): Christian, after your first sip, you'll never eat, drink, dream, or think about anything other than Absinthe ever again!  
  
(Djrocky99): Christian found this very appealing, considering the events of the morning thus far. A small voice in the back of his head told him it was too early to be drinking. But then his conscience took over and told the voice to shut the heck up!  
  
Toulouse pulled out shot glasses for each Bohemian. He even poured one for the snoozing Argentinean...and threw it in his face.  
  
That woke him up.  
  
(Christian): I'll take two please!  
  
~=~=~=~=~=~  
  
A/N-Sorry it was so long. I didn't honestly expect it to be soooo long. My apologies, again, to the entire cast and crew; but it is the price that must be paid for our entertainment! Chapter Three, coming soon. 


	3. The Sudden Obsession

Author: DJRocky99  
  
Description: I'm a sarcastic, cynical, occasionally humorous person who enjoys making fun of other things. The Moulin Rouge is good, but not good enough to escape my wrath...  
  
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I have yet to gain ownership of any of the Rouge characters simply by asking nicely. Plus, I was outbid on Ebay. Looks like I just can't win. ;)  
  
Rewind: When we last left Christian, he was preparing to down his first shot (or two) of Absinthe. Little did he know, an unexpected visitor was planning to make her grand debut in the film.  
  
Chapter Three-The Sudden Obsession  
  
~=~=~=~=~  
  
(Green Fairy): I'm Kylie * hiccup * Minogue!  
  
(Djrocky99): Christian looked up in disbelief at the miniature international superstar that was hovering directly above him.  
  
(Christian, whispering): You're the Green Fairy, not Kylie Minogue!  
  
(Green Fairy): No, I'm Kylie Minogue. And you're Ewan McGregor. And Sister Shorty over there is John Leguizamo on his knees...just the way I like him! Woohoo!  
  
(Djrocky99): Christian couldn't believe Kylie had actually sipped the after- shave! Baz had TOLD her not to drink it; it wasn't really absinthe. But did she listen? No, of course not! Now, not only was his hair appointment in jeopardy, but so was the whole movie.  
  
Christian did the one thing he could do:  
  
He flicked the little green nuisance out of the window...  
  
SPLAT!  
  
Christian peeled the mangled green body off of the window, opened it, and placed her gently on the sill. He then shut the window, but was careful not to smash her this time.  
  
(Christian): Phew, that was close!  
  
(Toulouse): Good move Christian, now who's going to sing with us?  
  
(Christian): Hey, I've just remembered. Aren't you supposed to have a lisp or some sort of speech impediment, Toulouse?  
  
(Toulouse, nervously): Another shot, Christian?  
  
~=~=~=~=~  
  
(Djrocky99): And so it was set. Christian would dress up in the Narcoleptic's finest suit, and attempt to avoid Zidler at all costs. The plan, instead, was to get Satine, the "Diamond in the Rough," alone, and convince her that he could write the show for the Moulin Rouge by sharing with her some of his poetry.  
  
~=~=~=~=~  
  
(Christian as narrator): And so we were off to the Moul-  
  
(Djrocky99): Listen up buddy. I'm the author and you're the character. I want to narrate. SO SCRAM!  
  
(Christian, cowering behind the Narcoleptic): Yes ma'am.  
  
(Djrocky99): That's what I thought. Anyway, where were we? Oh yes.  
  
So they were off to the Moulin Rouge to see Harry Zidler and his infamous Diamond Dogs.  
  
(Girls): Voulez vous coucher avec moi? Ce soir? I'm not much of a looker, But I am still a hooker, I'm not much of a looker, But I am still a hooker!  
  
(Zidler): When you don't want to do your chores, and you want to drop your drawers, just undo the safety latch, believe me there's no catch!  
  
Because you can can-can!  
  
(Girls): Yes you can can-can!  
  
Voulez vous coucher avec moi? Ce soir?  
  
(Scary old men): Here we are now! Entertain us! We're all stupid! And contagious!  
  
(Zidler): Do not feign being dumb! Just come and have some fun! We promise not to tell...as long as you yell! Yes you can can-can!  
  
(Scary old men): Here we are now! Entertain us! We'll throw money! It's outrageous!  
  
(Christian, yelling over the crowd with a bull horn): Because it makes me forget about my father!  
  
(Crowd): Because we can, can, can, yes, because we can can can can can can can can-can.  
  
(Djrocky99): The song ended, and the Bohemians and Christian wandered over to a table in a corner.  
  
(Toulouse): Mission accomplished! We managed to avoid Zidler all together! And look, here she comes: The Diamond in the Rough!  
  
(Djrocky99): Oh goody. Another song.  
  
(Satine):  
  
The French truly are insane,  
  
and Baz Luhrman is to blame,  
  
for making me act like one.  
  
A kiss on the hand may be quite continental  
  
But I'd rather have an Aussie guy  
  
A kiss may be grand but it won't pay the rent on your humble flat  
  
Or help you feed your pussycat!  
  
Men grow cold as girls grow old  
  
And you all lose your charms in the end (not me, though!)  
  
But with muscular arms  
  
Us * true * Aussies don't lose our charms  
  
Because I'd rather have an Aussie guy!  
  
(Djrocky99): Thank goodness that's over. Uh oh, looks like trouble is brewing at the table in the back corner.  
  
(Toulouse): Christian, I've managed to set up a meeting between you and Mademoiselle Satine totally alone after her performance.  
  
(Djrocky99): As it would turn out, Christian was not going to be the only one meeting Satine that night. The Duke, Zidler's investor for the play, was also set to have a meeting with her after the show.  
  
(Christian, in his abnormally high voice again): Alone, Toulouse?  
  
(Djrocky99): Meanwhile, at a table on the other side of the hall...  
  
(Zidler, to the Duke): Yes Duke. Totally alone.  
  
(Djrocky99): Ugh, and just when I thought it was over...  
  
(Satine):  
  
'Cause we are living in a material world  
  
And I am material girl!  
  
Jeff Richards, Russell Crowe  
  
Talk to me Harry Zidler, tell me all about them!  
  
There may be a time when a girl needs a man  
  
(Zidler): But I'd rather have an Aussie guy  
  
(Satine, spoken): Oh Harry, I never knew!  
  
(Zidler): You mean to tell me that it wasn't obvious? I mean, come on! The lipstick, the powder all over the face, the sudden obsession with cross- dressers, and the red coat! Who was I kidding? There was no need for me to come out of the closet, everyone but you saw me dancing on the dining room table!  
  
~=~=~=~=~  
  
A/N-Another fascinating turn of events, I must say. Also, I need to apologize to Jeff Richards and Russell Crowe (who own themselves, dang it!) and to all the MR characters. Chapter Four coming soon. 


	4. Toulouse's Many Mood Swings

Author: DJRocky99  
  
Description: I'm a sarcastic, cynical, occasionally humorous person who enjoys making fun of other things. The Moulin Rouge is good, but not good enough to escape my wrath...  
  
Disclaimer: I asked Santa Claus if he'd bring me all the Moulin Rouge characters for Christmas year. But then he cocked his head to one side and said, "How old are you?" I looked politely bewildered and replied "17. Why?" One of his eyes twitched and he yelled, "Get off me or I'll sick my elves on you!"  
  
I don't know, but that wasn't very nice. Anyways, I didn't get any of them for Christmas. Hopefully one of ya'll did better, though.  
  
Long story short (too late hehe) I don't own anything or anyone.  
  
Rewind: My apologies for those two songs; I know they don't follow too closely, but oh well. Anyways, when we last left the story, Zidler had just announced that he liked Aussie men. Annnnnd...action!  
  
Chapter Four-Toulouse's Many Mood Swings  
  
~=~=~=~=~  
  
(Satine, while doing an Irish jig): Harry, is the Duke here yet?  
  
(Zidler, while also doing an Irish jig): Yes, of course!  
  
(Toulouse, who had just spilled his Absinthe on the Duke): Oh...terribly sorry! Let me clean you up.  
  
(Djrocky99): Toulouse ran over to Christian and pulled the kerchief out of his jacket pocket. He waddled as only a man on his knees can back over to the Duke.  
  
(Satine, who is now doing the motions to Y.M.C.A): Well where is he then?  
  
(Djrocky99): Satine looked expectantly towards the men in the crowd, only to discover that she would be more attracted to Rosie O'Donnell in a thong than any of these men. She shivered in disgust.  
  
(Zidler): Let me have a peek, darling.  
  
(Djrocky99): Zidler begins the "Cha Cha Slide", slowly moving his way around where Satine is standing, eyeing him nervously.  
  
However, at the same moment, Toulouse had decided that a kerchief could not get the job done. He got his handheld Dirt Buster Vacuum cleaner out, and was attempting to use it on the Duke, who was flailing about like some sort of rabid beast.  
  
(Toulouse): Fine, you bourgeois pig, clean yourself off...I try to make up for an accident, and you can't even respect for the man I am...(Toulouse now has tears streaming down his face)...That's it! WE'RE THROUGH!  
  
(Djrocky99): Just when Toulouse turned to leave, he walked into a wall. A wall that strangely resembled Mr. Clean, that is.  
  
Mr. Clean had a gun, though.  
  
(Zidler, who is now blowing kisses to random people in the crowd): He's the one that Toulouse is shaking a vacuum at!  
  
(Djrocky99): Toulouse managed to escape unharmed by sliding on his knees underneath Mr. Clean, and escaping back to the Bohemians.  
  
(Christian, seeing Toulouse's tear-streaked face): What happened little buddy?  
  
(Toulouse, enraged): DON'T EVER CALL ME YOUR FREAKING LITTLE BUDDY AGAIN, GOT THAT? Now give me a tissue.  
  
(Christian, who is now convinced that Toulouse is a woman, due to his many mood swings at the end of the month): Ok dear. What's the magic word?  
  
(Toulouse, who is really pissed off this time, yet somehow manages to say calmly): Give me the tissue now, or I will hack off your head and shove it so far down your throat, you'll have to drop your pants if you ever want to see the light of day again.  
  
(Christian, who is rather frightened): Ah, yes. Right you are!  
  
(Djrocky99): At that very moment, Mr. Clean was sauntering towards the Bohemians' table, carrying the vacuum.  
  
(Toulouse): Someone hide me!  
  
(Djrocky99): Toulouse ducked underneath the table and prayed that big galoot wouldn't see him.  
  
(Mr. Clean): I came to return the vacuum to the funny man on his knees.  
  
(Christian, graciously accepting the gift): Thank you good sir for returning this to its rightful owner. Because of your civic duty, I hereby-  
  
(Mr. Clean, interrupting): Yeah whatever. Stop acting like I care already.  
  
(Djrocky99): He promptly turned and went back to the other table.  
  
(Satine, loudly enough to have all the actors turn her way): What the hell is a vacuum? This is 1898 you GUYS!  
  
(Zidler, Bohemians, Christian, the Duke, and Mr. Clean, in unison): Oh yeaaaah, right!  
  
(Zidler, to Satine): Oh yes! My little bunion, the duke is the man holding the hanky, WINK WINK!  
  
(Djrocky99): Nice cover, moron.  
  
Anyways, instead of arguing, Satine knew she just had to go along with it (choosing to ignore the fact that essentially nothing made sense). She looked up and saw Christian holding the napkin.  
  
(Satine, sighing): Works for me, I guess.  
  
(Djrocky99): Satine was surprised to discover that the Duke (Christian, in reality) was half way decent looking. She asked, in a shocked voice:  
  
(Satine): Harry, are you sure? I mean, absolutely, positively, undeniably certain?  
  
(Zidler, who stops shaking his ass long enough to glance at the table that he knows the real Duke is at): Yes, I'm absolutely positively undeniably certain that's him, kidney bean...um, chickpea.  
  
~=~=~=~=~  
  
(Djrocky99): Satine was up on her little swing, she sang the last line, blah blah blah, yada yada, she falls off, lands in Chocolat's arms, he runs her backstage, blah blah, she wakes up, coughs up some blood, everyone's happy she's alive for the time being, she gets dressed, and begins talking to Zidler.  
  
~=~=~=~=~  
  
(Satine, unzipping her outfit): So you think he'll invest?  
  
(Zidler, giggling like a school girl): If I wasn't gay, spent the night with you, and then slept with a man to be sure I wasn't gay, I'd invest.  
  
(Satine): What's his type? Slow and sweet?  
  
(Djrocky99): She sighed loudly.  
  
(Satine): Moderately saucy?  
  
(Djrocky99): She shivered.  
  
(Satine): Or kinky?  
  
(Djrocky99): She pulled out a whip and smacked the ground with it, making an Indiana Jones-ish type noise.  
  
(Zidler, wishing he was Satine right now): Kinky, I bet. We're all relying on you not to screw up, you know. Remember: if he invests, you can be in a real boring show, in front of a real sleeping audience, in a real old theatre.  
  
(Satine, confused): I see no difference.  
  
(Zidler, nervous laugh): Off you go!  
  
~=~=~=~=~  
  
(Djrocky99): By now, Satine had changed into her kinkiest outfit, consisting of a black leather thong and a top, stiletto heels, and was carrying her whip with her.  
  
~=~=~=~=~  
  
(Satine, randomly cracking her whip while standing in front of Christian [or the Duke, to her]): I believe you were expecting me.  
  
(CRASH)  
  
(Christian): As a matter of fact, yes, I was.  
  
(CRASH)  
  
(Satine, who is amazed...she yells at the audience): Shut up you fools! It's lady's choice!  
  
(Christian, who is fascinated by the wedgie Satine has from the leather): Hehehehehehehehehehehe.  
  
(Satine, moaning in pain from the wedgie): Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, OW!  
  
(Djrocky99): She manages to pull it out with no one other than Christian noticing.  
  
(Toulouse): I see you've met my English friend.  
  
(Satine, holding Christian at whip-point, and forcing him to go on the dance floor): Yeah and I'll take care of him, Toulouse. Let's dance!  
  
(Bohemians, excluding Sadie, however): Gee, that went remarkably well...damn; I guess that means the whole picture won't be cancelled.  
  
(Zidler, who is lying in a bed, smoking a cigarette, with Sadie grinning next to him): Gee, that Duke sure can dance.  
  
(Djrocky99): Zidler couldn't see through his screen of smoke, so he assumed that Satine had found the real Duke without incident.  
  
~=~=~=~=~  
  
(Satine, to Christian): It's splendid of you to take an interest in our pitiful...um, pleasurable show!  
  
(Christian, smiling his nerdy grin): Sounds fun! I think it'll really be cool, being involved and all.  
  
(Satine, shocked): Are you sure? You're serious? You actually mean it?  
  
(Christian): Assuming you like what I do, that is.  
  
(Satine): I bet I will.  
  
(Christian): Toulouse said we should do it in private.  
  
(Satine): Yes, of course. Don't want all these people to see; I understand entirely.  
  
(Christian): Yes, I get rather nervous in front of large groups. One time, I was in a café, and decided I'd jump on stage and do it, but I couldn't find the ru-  
  
(Satine): The WHAT?  
  
(Christian, not noticing the interruption): -ddy paper that had the poems on it, and for the life of me, I couldn't remember the first line!  
  
(Satine, relieved he was talking about poetry and not something else): Oh, right, of course. Poetry.  
  
(Christian): Well, yes, of course. What'd you think I meant?  
  
(Satine): Never-you-mind. Be right back.  
  
~=~=~=~=~  
  
(Djrocky99): Satine left Christian alone on the dance floor, climbed up on her little swing, she sang the last line, blah blah blah, yada yada, she falls off, lands in Chocolat's arms, he runs her backstage, blah blah, she wakes up, coughs up some blood, everyone's happy she's alive for the time being, she gets dressed, and begins talking to Zidler.  
  
(Satine, to Zidler): How do I look? Kinky?  
  
(Zidler, giggling again): For a woman, yes!  
  
(Satine): To the bat-elephant, Robin!  
  
(Zidler): What the...?  
  
(Satine, winking): Nevermind. Off to Suzy I go!  
  
(Zidler): Who the hell is Suzy?!  
  
(Satine, grinning): The elephant! I decided she needed a name.  
  
(Zidler): Of course...silly me! EVERYONE names their bedrooms...elephants...something.  
  
~=~=~=~=~  
  
(Duke): Find Zidler, the girl needs me! (He rolls his eyes.)  
  
~=~=~=~=~  
  
(A/N...preparing excuses for my unexplained absence): Ok, let me get this out of the way first. The break in between the chapters was because we went out of town; then, I was sick; then the holidays came; plus, the whole time, I've had writer's block, lol! I promise not to do that again though.  
  
Apologies to: ALL Moulin Rouge characters, Rosie O'Donnell, the Indiana Jones reference, the Batman reference, all song references, and I think that's about it.  
  
Can you believe it? Chapter Five coming soon! It's looking like a good one so far, too, so keep an eye out! 


	5. This Is Your Thong

Author: DJRocky99  
  
Description: I'm a sarcastic, cynical, occasionally humorous person who enjoys making fun of other things. The Moulin Rouge is good, but not good enough to escape my wrath...  
  
Disclaimer: I still own nothing...and chances are it'll always be that way.  
  
Rewind: When we last left the story, Satine and Christian had just arrived in Suzy...(yes, folks, that's right...the elephant has a name)...and Toulouse and the other Bohemians are discussing the night so far.  
  
Chapter Five-This Is Your Thong  
  
~=~=~=~=~  
  
(Toulouse, moodily): Unbelievable! Straight to Suzy. Speaking of Suzy, WHO IN THE HELL NAMES THEIR HOUSE THAT'S SHAPED LIKE AN ELEPHANT?  
  
(Djrocky99): All of the Bohos take a step back from Toulouse, just in case.  
  
(Toulouse, to Sadie, while digging through purse): I think I have a quarter in here. Will you do me a favor and run down to the ladies' room and grab me a...never mind! Why am I even talking? Cut!  
  
~=~=~=~=~  
  
(Satine, who has yet another wedgey): Soooo, Christian, is this, like, poetic, or like, what?  
  
(Christian, while scuffing his shoe on the floor): Yeah, like totally, and you're, like, 14, like, right?  
  
(Satine): Pardon?  
  
(Christian, grinning): It sure is! Let's just get it over with, shall we?  
  
(Djrocky99): Now Satine, who is, well let's say a few fries short of a Happy Meal, has no clue that Christian, who isn't the Duke, isn't here to sleep with her, but is here to actually read poetry, and isn't just using some odd codeword or something.  
  
(Satine, moderately offended): Oh really? Well. Fine. Let's just DO IT then, shall we? The bed is over here, by the way.  
  
(Christian, who is also clueless): Yes, it's a beautiful bed, but I like to do it standing, thankyouverymuch.  
  
(Satine, now a little bit more offended): Erm, ok. I guess.  
  
(Christian, who is afraid that he has offended her, but for a different reason): Oh! You don't have to stand if you don't want to. I mean, back in my country, the men always stand and the women sit. It's just how it's done over there. But whatever you want to do. You know, this is totally about you, after all!  
  
(Djrocky99): At this point, the leather thong that Satine so...ummm...tastefully picked out has ridden so far UP, it's nearing the "point of no return."  
  
She plops down on the bed and tries, discreetly at first at least, to get it out.  
  
(Satine, moaning): Ow!  
  
(Christian, sputtering): The sky...the sky beyond the door...is blue.  
  
(Satine, who is now starting to get angry): Ow! No, really?  
  
(Christian, confused): Um is everything all right? You sound like you're in pain.  
  
(Satine): Took you damn long enough, Sherlock. Get over here and help me, would you!  
  
~=~=~=~=~  
  
(Djrocky99): Zidler finally decided to check up on his little garbanzo bean and the Duke (or so he thought.) Being the peeping tom he is (literally) he just so happened to have a high-powered telescope that he pointed towards Suzy's right eye (Satine's bedroom).  
  
(Zidler, who is, of course, also clueless): Aw look at them; they're so cute! What's this? The Duke I spoke with earlier was 19 years older and had a rat tail glued to his upper lip. But the Duke in their now is different looking. I wonder.  
  
(Djrocdky99): Zidler stood there for 5 minutes trying to make some sort of connection, or to even figure out if he had an imposter on his hands.  
  
He eventually came to the conclusion that even if that guy in Suzy was an imposter, he was still a fine hunk of masculinity. Zidler jumped down the fire pole (he had installed in the peeping tom room in case just such an occasion arose) and headed straight for Satine's room.  
  
~=~=~=~=~  
  
(Christian, grunting): Wow. I've seen a lot of wedgies in my day, but never one this deep!  
  
(Satine): Ow! I don't care! Ow! GET IT OUT!  
  
(Christian, with one final pull at the edge of Satine's thong): UMPH!  
  
(Djrocky99): Unfortunately for Christian, he pulled it loose, and he ended up shooting backwards and smashing into the wall. Satine was now in need of pants, since her thong had snapped. She wrapped herself up in a cover (before Christian could look) for the time being.  
  
(Christian): This calls for a celebration!  
  
(Satine, unhappily slipping in a near by closet to put on a pair of jeans): Great. And by celebration, you mean that you're going to sing, don't you?  
  
(Christian, exuberantly): How'd you guess?  
  
It's a little bit funny  
  
This feeling inside  
  
The feeling I had while your  
  
Thong was trying to hide.  
  
If I were a doctor  
  
But then again, no.  
  
Or even a sideshow freak  
  
In a traveling show.  
  
I know it wasn't much  
  
But it was the best that I could do  
  
This is your thong, yeah,  
  
And I got it out for you!  
  
And you can tell everybody  
  
That this is your thong!  
  
It may be quite large, yeah  
  
But now that it's gone  
  
I hope you don't mind  
  
I hope you don't mind  
  
That I sell it on Ebay  
  
Cuz' anything that's ever touched your butt will be worth cash someday!  
  
Went to Vicky's Secret  
  
Almost bought this same pair for myself  
  
But suddenly I remembered:  
  
"Penniless existence means no wealth!"  
  
But since you have them  
  
I don't need the same pair  
  
Oh and what's the name  
  
Of the color in your hair?  
  
So excuse me for forgetting  
  
These things I do  
  
Hey, this color thong is awesome  
  
A mixture of green and blue!  
  
Anyway, the thing that I really mean:  
  
Your thong's the greatest that I've ever seen!  
  
And you can tell everybody  
  
That this is your thong!  
  
It may be quite large, yeah  
  
But now that it's gone  
  
I hope you don't mind  
  
I hope you don't mind  
  
That I sell it on Ebay  
  
Cuz' anything that's ever touched your butt will be worth cash someday!  
  
[End Song Sequence.THAT MEANS WAKE UP TIME, EVERYONE!]  
  
(Bohos, all teary eyed): He sure is something with the ladies!  
  
~=~=~=~=~  
  
(A/N)...Hey everyone! I swear on all that is good and holy that I won't be so negligent anymore!  
  
I'm sorry this chapter digressed so much. It was a weird one to work with, lol. So if anyone is displeased with this chapter, I totally agree!  
  
Anyways, apology list: My loyal fans, the entire cast, Elton John, anyone I may have offended, and all references made to various sources (too many to list). More soon! 


	6. A Flaming Flamer, A Mutant Alien, and An

Author: Djrocky99  
  
Description: I'm a sarcastic, cynical, occasionally humorous person who enjoys making fun of other things. The Moulin Rouge is good, but not good enough to escape my wrath...oh, and look out folks. This is going to be a long one.  
  
Disclaimer: You know the drill.  
  
Chapter Six: A Flaming Flamer, A Mutant Alien, and An Explanation  
  
~=~=~=~=~  
  
A/N: Everyone please ignore tHe InSaNe OnE. Hehe she's a friend of mine from school who's never seen Moulin Rouge, so naturally she is clueless in the matter. Otherwise, though, she's harmless. ;-)  
  
To BeetleBon99: How right you are! Us 99's have to stick together...and I'm glad you like the story. =)  
  
To Ivy: I promise I won't abandon this one! I hope I can keep the story going, I like the way it's turned out so far. =)  
  
To Jessica143 (SomeoneWhoCan'tWrite): I promise to get chapters up much quicker from on! It'll be my belated New Year's resolution, lol! =)  
  
To Ella Roberta Reamy: Don't worry, this one isn't gonna die anytime soon, hehe. =)  
  
To Biblehermione: Can you believe that I'm like this all the time? LOL!  
  
To barghorse: No problem. Your stories were great, by the way. Sorry about the whole being-mean to Christian thing. I promise I'll be mean to everyone else also from now on, LOL! (PS-try not to say "nailed" and "Audrey" in a sentence together anymore, ROFL! Just kidding) =)  
  
To Katie: Aw shucks, now I'm really blushing, LOL! I definitely need to send props to Beetle and Elf, because I was afraid to do parodies or humor until I read their stories. Thanks again, to all three of you! =)  
  
To Quoth the Raven: First off, let me just say that I love your name, lol! That is probably my favorite poem/short story ever. Second, I'm glad you liked the story, hehe! =)  
  
~=~=~=~=~  
  
Rewind: When we last left our stars (snicker), Christian had just done his good deed of the day and removed Satine's thong...which had, umm...gotten stuck. Now would be a good time for the villain (snicker again) to enter. Annnnnd...ACTION! ~=~=~=~=~  
  
(Satine, in a shocked voice): I can't believe I've fallen in love with a talented, handsome young duke who can't sing!  
  
(Christian, dumbfounded): Really? A Duke?  
  
(Satine, in a "boy, are you really THAT dumb?" voice): Yeah. Toulouse and Zidler both said you were a duke.  
  
(Christian, falls on floor laughing): Hahahaha you believed them? You're naturally blonde, aren't you?  
  
(Satine, outraged): Oh please, like you have room to talk, "Mr. I-couldn't- hit-one-freaking-note-to-save-my-soul-yet-I-continually-sing-during-the- whole-damn-movie." So, what you're telling me is that you're another one of Toulouse's hopeless friends who has zero literacy and/or people skills?  
  
(Christian): I'm sure I ain't gots a clue what you be talking about, girl. So don't go there. Besides, I'm a writer. I don't need literacy OR people skills!  
  
(Satine, sarcastically): Shocking.  
  
(Djrocky99): Thank God that at that very moment, the real Duke showed up and knocked at Satine's door. She scrambled to button her jeans and walked over and opened the door.  
  
(Satine, in an unusually squeaky voice, even for her): The Duke! Oh Duke, you're here!  
  
(Djrocky99): Satine slammed the door in his face before the obnoxious little rodent had time to squeak out a greeting or some perverted statement.  
  
(Satine, frantically): Christian, you idiot, hide! Hurry!  
  
(Christian): Right!  
  
(Djrocky99): Christian went running towards Satine's closet, but tripped and when flying in. Satine came up behind it and locked it. She then proceeded back to let the Duke in.  
  
(Zidler): Satine, where have you been? This hunk-a hunk-a burnin' love has been waiting out here for 5 minutes!  
  
(The Duke, in that annoying nasally voice, stands gaping and wide eyed at Zidler): Say...say...what?  
  
(Satine, sensing The Duke's discomfort): Sorry. Thought it was open.  
  
(Zidler): Ok, you kids have fun. I want you both back before 1 am though, right?  
  
(Satine/The Duke in unison): Yes, Harry.  
  
(Djrocky99): The big flaming flamer left The Duke and Satine...totally alone. Well, excluding Christian, anyway.  
  
(The Duke, in an attempt to be suave, but still coming off sounding gay): A kiss on the hand may be quite continental.  
  
(Satine, who doesn't want to play along): Pervert. I'd rather have a human being, not you...you little rat.  
  
(Djrocky99): The Duke, who certainly is not the sharpest knife in the drawer, assumes she's coming on to him.  
  
[A/N-Don't ever assume anything, kids. Because it makes an ASS out of U and ME! Now back to our regularly scheduled story.]  
  
(The Duke): Oh, getting feisty, our we?  
  
(Satine, feigning seriousness): Ah, you've got my number, I see.  
  
(The Duke): So...um...want to sleep with my so that I'll fund your plays and crap?  
  
(Satine, scared to death): NO! But...  
  
(Djrocky99): She just dug herself a mighty big grave.  
  
(Satine, to Djrocky99): Shut up. I've got it under control.  
  
(Djrocky99): Nuh uh.  
  
(Satine): Uh huh.  
  
(The Duke, interrupting): Um ladies. We have a story going on here.  
  
(Djrocky99): Ah shut up, you little Mouseketeer. Literally. Besides, she started it.  
  
(Satine): Everyone just shut up!  
  
(The Duke): Works for me.  
  
(Djrocky99): Ok. Back to the story. Satine said no, blah blah blah, now she has to find some way to cover her ass (not literally, this time.)  
  
(Satine): It's a little bit funny.  
  
This feeling inside  
  
The feeling I had while your  
  
Thong was trying to hide.  
  
This is your thong, yeah,  
  
And I got it out for you!  
  
And you can tell everybody  
  
That this is your thong!  
  
It may be quite large, yeah  
  
But now that it's gone  
  
I hope you don't mind  
  
I hope you don't mind  
  
That I sell it on Ebay  
  
Cuz' anything that's ever touched your butt will be worth cash someday!  
  
(The Duke, teary eyed): Oh my God Satine, I never knew! I...loved it. Marry me?  
  
(Satine, who's pissed because she thought that would scare him away): Ugh. Anyway, that song will be in "Horrific, Horrific." You should pay for it. It'll be worth it. And besides, I need a new tho-...  
  
(Djrocky99): Damn it, here we go again. SATINE, SHUT UP.  
  
(Satine, trying to fix mistake): A new thoroughbred horse.  
  
(Djrocky99, rolling eyes): Oh, that was smooth.  
  
(Satine, hissing): Shut up already!  
  
(The Duke, childishly while clapping hands): Oh, I just love women who love ponies!  
  
(Djrocky99, so only Satine can hear [because hey, us chicks have to stick together]): I'd be shocked if he liked women, period.  
  
(Satine, snickering): Right you are.  
  
(The Duke): What?  
  
(Satine, with a fake smile): Nothing. Anyways, I really need my beauty rest, so you should leave. Good riddance.  
  
(Djrocky99): Satine shoved the Duke through the door. She sauntered over to the closet, proud of the fact that she'd managed to get rid of him AND manipulate him enough to pay for the show. She opened the door to discover Christian standing in a pair of stilettos and wearing a vest, a la Dr. Frank N. Further from Rocky Horror.  
  
(Christian): Come on Satine, give yourself over to absolute pleasure!  
  
(Satine, laughing so hard she's choking): Oh...my...God!  
  
(Christian, with a thoughtful expression on his face): Oh crap. I've just remembered, we completely forgot the "you faint, Zidler and The Duke come prancing back in, I wake you up" scene.  
  
(Satine): Damn. Well, this thing is running over-time anyways, so let's just shorten the scene we forgot.  
  
(Djrocky99): Satine dramatically holds one wrist to her forehead and melodramatically stumbles around the room. Christian stands watching amusedly.  
  
(Christian, shouting): Cue Harry and the Duchess...erm, Duke!  
  
(Baz Lurhman): Damn it, Christian, that's my line!  
  
(Christian, meekly): Sorry sir.  
  
(Baz): Cue Harry and The Duke!  
  
(Djrocky99): The Duke and Zidler come prancing in together and speak their lines at the same time in an attempt to speed things up.  
  
(The Duke): Foul play...rehearsal? As if...where's Zidler?  
  
(Zidler, at the exact same time): Dearest Duke...emergency rehearsal...let's go to my office...  
  
(Djrocky99): Finally getting to the important part, the two idiots stop talking over one another.  
  
(The Duke): What's the story?  
  
(Zidler): Toulouse will tell you.  
  
(Toulouse, looking forlorn): Damn. Um, let's see. It's about...um...  
  
(Christian): Love.  
  
(Toulouse, sighing in relief): Thank you.  
  
(Christian): Love, overcoming all obstacles!  
  
(Toulouse): And it's set in Switzerland!  
  
(Christian): No it isn't! It's set in...in Roswell, New Mexico. And there's a courtesan [A/N-keep in mind that that is French for hooker], the most beautiful leather-thong-wearing courtesan in the world. But her hometown, Roswell, is invaded by a gay evil mutant alien shaped like a human but resembling a rat, that has part of its own tail glued to its face and has a high nasally voice because it can't breathe through its nose. So, in order to save her hometown, she must seduce the evil alien. But on the night of the seduction, she mistakes a penniless...a penniless actor who's been out of work for 8 years for the evil alien, and falls in love with the actor. The actor wasn't trying to trick her or anything, but he had been dressed in a big rat costume because he was on his way to an audition for Mickey Mouse.  
  
(Djrocky99): The Duke, Satine, and myself all stare at Christian in shock. Apparently, Christian has forgotten that this is supposed to be 1899! (smacks forehead).  
  
(Argentinean): I will be the penniless actor! Oh...I'll star, in the play, too, if no one else wants to.  
  
(Satine and Djrocky99): We shared another giggle. Score again for the girls.  
  
(The Duke, who is completely clueless to the fact that not only is Christian making this up as he goes, but is also basing it on real life): And what happens next?  
  
(Christian): The actor and the courtesan [A/N-that's French for hooker] must hide their infatuation.  
  
(Sadie): And the actor's...um...mirror is magical and can only tell the truth!  
  
(Toulouse, moodily again): Yeah sure. Give me the damned mirror part. Just freaking great. Ma and Pa would be so proud; I'm finally getting somewhere in life. I'M GOING TO BE A MIRROR.  
  
(The Duke): He gives the game away, right?  
  
(Christian): Either that, or he kills us all.  
  
(Djrocky99): Toulouse glared at Christian.  
  
(Zidler): Christian, my boy, tell The Duke about the can-can.  
  
(Christian): Do I have to?  
  
(Zidler): No. The can-can is an erotic scene, starring moi, that captures the thrusting, gyrating, vibrating, tear-to-your-eye-bring excitement that only an actor such as myself can provide. It will be...  
  
~=~=~=~=~  
  
A/N: Wow, that one was pretty strange too. Apologies to all the cast, blondes everywhere, all those who "curve the other way" (you know who you are), and anyone I offended (you also know who you are.)  
  
Hope everyone enjoyed. Join us next time when Zidler reveals what, exactly, the play will be. Oh I just can't wait! 


	7. That Which Shall Not Be Named

Author: DJRocky99  
  
Description: I'm a sarcastic, cynical, occasionally humorous person who enjoys making fun of other things. The Moulin Rouge is good, but not good enough to escape my insane wrath...oh, and look out folks. This one's back on top, where it belongs.  
  
Disclaimer: [sarcasm] I own all these characters, all the plot ideas (or lack there of), all of the actors and actresses, Baz L., Jean-Claude's hair salon, Suzy the Elephant, and everything else in this story [/end sarcasm]  
  
Chapter Seven: That Which Shall Not Be Named  
  
~=~=~=~=~  
  
A/N: Yes, I have returned once again. I told you I wouldn't let this story die; I was...umm...just allowing it to simmer for a while, so that when I returned, it would just be dripping with flavor. Hehehe!  
  
To ALL my reviewers: You, the loyal people of DJRockydom, have been neglected, but certainly NOT forgotten! I love you all, and hope you can find it in your wonderfully golden hearts to forgive me. And if you can't...well, I understand. But I hope you'll still read the damn story anyways; hehe.  
  
Warning: The chapter got slightly out of hand, but I have decided to post it anyway. I promise the next one will somehow be back on track, close to the actual script. Oh well.  
  
~=~=~=~=~  
  
Rewind: When we last left our story, many moons ago, Zidler was preparing to tell us what the play is about. Oh crap; I think I feel a song coming on. Damn.  
  
Annnnd...action. That is, unless I have a choice...hehe...  
  
~=~=~=~=~  
  
(Zidler): ...it will be: Horrific, Horrific!  
  
(DJRocky99, snottily): Oh go on, cue the damn music. Humph.  
  
(Zidler, singing):  
  
Horrific, horrific  
  
I can't be too specific  
  
About this new, frightening play  
  
That is all I'm bound to say.  
  
(whispering):  
  
If we make any money, returns are fixed at three percent.  
  
Three? Oops, that wasn't what I meant...  
  
And on top of your fee...  
  
(Bohos, all together now):...you'll be involved occasionally! So damn frightening, the audience will run and hide! So terrifying, Rocky will never let this story die!  
  
(DJRocky99, annoyed): Hey. That wasn't part of the script.  
  
(Satine, the smart one, staying on the author's good side): Yeah guys. Sing it right.  
  
(DJRocky99, flashing a grin to the guys, and then whispering to Satine): Ok. When this Fic starts to go to hell, I'll do my best to keep you out of the hand-basket, ok?  
  
(Satine, grinning in return): Yes ma'am.  
  
(DJRocky99, fake concern): I'm not old enough to be a ma'am, but thanks anyways. Oops. Look, I've wasted so much time, we have to get on with this story and leave out the song! Oh darn.  
  
(Christian, whining): But...but nobody knows what the story is going to be about!  
  
(DJRocky99, while filing nails and looking bored): So tell them.  
  
(Christian, looking slightly uncomfortable): Fine. Ok, so there's this evil rodent alien whom this pretty dominatrix from New Mexico has to seduce for some reason or another. But, when a penniless actor is meandering around in a full-blown Mickey Mouse costume, she mistakes him for the evil rodent alien, when he comes to ask her to help him get the mouse head off.  
  
(DJRocky99): All righty, then.  
  
(Christian, who was apparently not finished, and planned on going into great detail; he looks very thoughtful for a moment, but then his eyes completely glaze over): And the actor and the dominatrix must hide their love for one another if she is ever to get the evil alien rodent thingy to invest or whatever. But one day, as the actor is at the firing range, practicing with an Uzi, he accidentally misses his target and ends up viciously tearing the alien rodent limb from limb. But luckily, no one saw it happen, and the murderous actor got away with it, and lived happily ever after with the dominatrix. Well, he would have gotten away with it, if it wasn't for those pesky kids and their damn dog.  
  
(DJRocky99): Now naturally, at this point, all the Bohos, Satine, and Zidler were wondering exactly WHAT Christian had been smoking...and why he hadn't shared.  
  
(Satine, flustered): That's it! I give up!  
  
(DJRocky99): She prepared to storm off, but Christian, still in a robot- like trance, stepped in front of her, blocking her path. He leaned towards her, wrapped his arms around her, dropped her into a steep dip, and started kissing her. French kissing her.  
  
What? They're in France! It was a French kiss! Geez, people, get your minds out of the gutter, would you?  
  
(Christian, coming up for air): I love you.  
  
(Nicole Kidman, extremely unhappy): Get the hell off of me, Ewan.  
  
(Christian): Marry me?  
  
(Nicole Kidman, angry): No!  
  
(DJRocky99, in my best "Upchuck", from Daria, impersenation): Rowwr! Feisty!  
  
(Nicole Kidman, squirming, trying to get away from Ewan McGregor, whom seems to have gone completely utterly mad): Almighty queen of the fanfic, DJ, please...a little help here!  
  
(DJRocky99, remembering the promise): Yes well, I suppose a promise is a promise is a promise.  
  
Ewan, get the hell off of her right now. If you don't, I'll...I'll sic Zidler after you. You wouldn't want that, now would you?  
  
(Ewan/Christian, snapping out of whatever he was under the control of): No. Not...not at all. Where am I?  
  
(DJRocky99, incredulously): You've lost your memory?  
  
(Ewan): I don't remember.  
  
(DJRocky99, figuring that this chapter is beyond the salvageable point): Figures. Well, I knew it would happen sooner or later, but-oh no. Ewan, don't. Damn!  
  
I reached for my earplugs and quickly lodged them in place. I tossed an extra pair to Satine, as she put them in her ears just seconds before he started.  
  
(Ewan, bursting into song, as I knew he inevitable would):  
  
Goodbye to the summer  
  
Sold down the river  
  
Unhappy ever after  
  
Well did you ever?  
  
Did you ever reach for the glued-down penny?  
  
Same old joke and it's not funny  
  
Burns are red, bruises blue  
  
Out with the old, cheated by the new  
  
Do you suffer from long-term memory loss?  
  
I don't remember...  
  
Do you suffer from long-term memory loss?  
  
I don't remember...  
  
You sing the same old verse  
  
Stick like glue for better or worse  
  
What goes around comes around, again, again, again  
  
This heart pulled apart  
  
Hydra fighting head to head  
  
Burns are red, bruises blue  
  
Out with the old cheated by the new  
  
Do you suffer from long-term memory loss?  
  
I don't remember...  
  
Do you suffer from long-term memory loss?  
  
I don't remember...  
  
Oooh, amnesia, oooh  
  
Do you suffer from long-term memory loss?  
  
I don't remember...  
  
(DJRocky99/Satine, in unison): Right now, I really do wish I suffered from long-term memory loss.  
  
(DJRocky99): Ewan passed out from all that powerful singing he had done. The Bohemians had all run for dear life when he started singing that classic Chumbawamba hit.  
  
Satine walked gingerly over to the body of Christian, crumpled in a heap on the floor, and give him a good swift ass-kicking.  
  
(Satine, struggling to beat him up in her jeans): You ass! What the hell were you doing!?  
  
(DJRocky99, to Satine): As much as I enjoy watching you beat him senseless, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to stop. Beat him too badly, and I'll have to go search for a new lead actor. And that just wouldn't be the same.  
  
(Satine, sighing, and leaving the bruised body alone): Oh, fine. Hey, are we done here?  
  
(DJRocky99, glancing down at an unmoving Ewan): Yeah, I think so. But...umm...we'll have to try to get this story back on track for the next chapter. Assuming the reviewers don't beat ME senseless for writing this thing.  
  
(Satine, in an "I understand" tone): That's fine. I...um, thanks for helping me out.  
  
(DJRocky99, knowingly): Oh no problem. If you think it was bad when he went after you; well, let's just say I heard through the grapevine that he did the same thing to Yoda during the Star Wars filming.  
  
"Touch me, you will not!"  
  
(Satine, laughing): I always knew there was something up with him, hehe. I never said anything, though, of course.  
  
(DJRocky99): Of course. Hey, I think there's a mall up the street from here. Wanna go grab some lunch?  
  
(Satine): Sure. Might as well enjoy the time off.  
  
(DJRocky99): Yeah. We'll come back and try to fix this story later.  
  
~=~=~=~=~  
  
(A/N): Holy cow. Um, that concludes our most disturbing (and shortest) chapter yet, thank God. Wow. I can't believe I let that one wander off like that. Since I haven't written in awhile, this just shows how rusty I can get. Anywho, now that I've started to ease back into writing, I'm sure the next chapter will be more intelligent. I hope.  
  
Please...read and review...tell me how messed up it was (though it isn't really necessary; I know it's extremely screwy, lol.) 


	8. Horrific, Horrific

Author: DJRocky99  
  
Description: I'm a sarcastic, cynical, occasionally humorous person who enjoys making fun of other things. The Moulin Rouge is good, but not good enough to escape my insane wrath...oh, and look out folks. This one's back on top, * sigh *.   
  
Disclaimer: As of today...I own absolutely every aspect of this story! (It's amazing what you can find at some of these thrift stores around here, ya know? Hehe...)   
  
Chapter Eight: Things Get A Little Less Messy  
  
~=~=~=~=~  
  
A/N: Hey all. DJR here again, in the flesh, believe it or not. I just reread this whole story, and it was like walking into a brick wall. Well, I guess it was like walking into a brick wall; I don't actually know, I've always been smart enough to avoid walking into brick walls. But anywhoozle, the point is, there are a LOT of mistakes in this story, and it bothered me. So, sometime in the extremely near future (possibly even today!) I'll be systematically going through and repairing the chapters. Remember, this is for your viewing pleasure...and because I was annoyed with myself, LOL! Alright then, moving on...  
  
~=~=~=~=~  
  
Rewind: I'm going to be perfectly honest; the last chapter was completely chaotic...though, I found it strangely amusing. Ah heck. Go read the chapter for yourself, and spare me the humiliation of having to repost it on this chapter. Hehe.  
  
Annnnnd...CUT!  
  
(Satine): DJ, my friend. It's "action".   
  
[Oops.]  
  
~=~=~=~=~  
  
(DJRocky99): And so, Satine and I went out to lunch. It was fun; we split a Hawaiian pizza from the Pizza Hut in the mall.   
  
(Satine, after letting out a room-shaking belch): Hey...do you have some Tums or a Rolaid or something?  
  
(DJRocky99, smiling): I just so happen to. Here ya go.  
  
(Satine, munching): Ah, thanks.  
  
(Christian, who has apparently regained conciousness and is sitting up): Have I been drinking?  
  
(Satine, grinning): Funny, we were just going to ask you the same question. What the hell was that last chapter, anyway?  
  
(Chrisitian, rubbing his left temple): I...I don't honestly know. I'm really sorry I came on to you like that. Don't know what came over me. Hey, am I bleeding?  
  
(Satine, feeling genuinely sorry for beating the crap out of him earlier): Eh, no biggie. I'm surprised you resisted me as long you did. And no, you've stopped bleeding.  
  
(DJRocky99, wincing): Eep. Hope that doesn't need stiches. *cough cough* Let's get on with the story, shall we?  
  
(Chrisitian, almost in tears and whining): But it huuuuuurts!  
  
(DJRocky99): I'm paying you.  
  
(Chrisitian, jumping up and looking quite manly): Let's go, girls!  
  
(DJRocky99, to Satine): Oh well, so much for the manly part. Anyways, I think we should restart the story at the part where the song, "Horrific, Horiffic" begins. It all started to go south from there, so I think it'll be a good place to start. Bring Zidler and the Duke and the Hobos back!  
  
(Satine, patting DJR on the back): Bohemians, DJ, Bohos. You poor thing...  
  
(DJRocky99, realizing the "error"): Oh. Yes, of course. Oops?  
  
(Satine and DJRocky99, exchanging grins): Hehehehehe.  
  
(Duke and Zidler, arriving at exactly the same moment, both of them with cigars and looking strangely content): Hello girls. Are we ready?  
  
(DJRocky99, glancing at Chrisitan, and struggling to stifle a laugh): Heh...yeah, I think...hehe...so. Alright everyone; let's take it from "Horrific, Horrific!" And...  
  
(Baz, looking confused and glaring at DJRocky99): Who the hell are YOU?!  
  
(DJRocky99, running away): ACTION!  
  
~=~=~=~=~  
  
(Zidler, letting out an enourmous yawn): It will be...  
  
(DJRocky99, spinning an obviously uninterested finger in the air): Whoopie.  
  
(Zidler, singing...or something that would resemble singing, if it came from another person): Horrific, Horrific  
  
I can't be too specific  
  
About this new, frightening play  
  
And that is all I'm bound to say!  
  
(whispering)  
  
If we make any money, returns are fixed at three percent.  
  
Damn, I said three? That wasn't what I meant...  
  
And on top of your fee...  
  
(DJRocky99, interrupting): De ja vu.  
  
(Bohemians, ignoring her and singing in unision):...you'll be involved occasionally! So damn frightening, the audience will run and hide! So terrifying, some people might just faint and die! So damn frightening, the audience will run and hide! So terrifying, some people might just faint and die!   
  
(Christian, bouncing up and down): I'm in it!  
  
(Toulouse, playing "Ring-Around-The-Rosy" with Sadie): And me!  
  
(Zidler, doing his best runway "model walk"): Me too...smooch!  
  
(Satine, deadpan, just standing off to the side, bemused by the others' antics): Yeah. Me too. Hoorah.   
  
(DJRocky99, snickering): This looks like the start of a beautfiul friendship.  
  
(Narcoleptic, with a Vulcan-death-grip on a bottle of Absinthe, and with a hiccup): I...I! I will be in it...too!  
  
(Toulouse, sighing): We all...fall...down!  
  
(Everyone, together): Firefighters! Muscle builders! People related to contortionists! Pina coladas, champagne, at midnight in the dunes on the cape! Christmas lights, machinery, powered by electricity!  
  
So damn frightening, the audience will run and hide! So terrifying, some people might just faint and die! So damn frightening, the audience will run and hide! So terrifying, some people might just faint and die!   
  
Horrific, horrific  
  
I can't be too specific  
  
About this new, frightening play  
  
That is all I'm bound to say.  
  
The hills quake with the sound of our singing! So damn frightening, the audience will run and hide! So terrifying, some people might just faint and die!So damn frightening, the audience will run and hide! So terrifying, some people might just faint and die!   
  
(Duke, writing in his journal, not realizing he's talk out loud and they've stopped singing): Dear Diary, today I met the cutest guy named Chr...Ack!  
  
(Bohemians, wide-eyed): WHAT?!  
  
(Duke, noticing everyone staring at him): Umm so, like, what happens in the end?  
  
(Christian, clearing his throat): Ahem. The courtesan and the actor man, create an evil diabolical plan...  
  
(Satine, showing a streak of evilness not seen before):...to kill the evil rodent in his sleep one day...  
  
(Christian, seeing where Satine's going with this):..or at least threaten to if he doesn't admit he's super gay.  
  
(Duke, "singing"): It's a little bit funny, this feeling inside...  
  
(Bohemians, cringing): Yeah, yeah whatever.  
  
So damn frightening, the audience will run and hide! So terrifying, some people might just faint and die!  
  
(Chrisitan, excited): Penniless actor's bad acting allows them to escape...even though the rodent threatens with a song, the couple just runs on and on.  
  
(Zidler, shouting): Roar! I am the Evil Gay Mutant Alien that crash landed in Roswell, New Mexico! You will do my bidding!  
  
(Satine, snickering): Pfft...Harry, nobody could do that quite as well as you. Well, except maybe the Du-  
  
(DJRocky99, stepping on Satine's foot): Shhhhhhh!  
  
(Satine, trying to cover): -dley DoRight! Holy cow, is that Brendan Fraser hot, or what? And in "George of the Jungle"? Hot stuff!  
  
(DJRocky99, nodding in agreement): Amen to that, sister. I'd swing on his vine any day of the week...if ya know what I mean...  
  
(Baz, who's been tapping his foot and glancing his Fossil watch): Ladies? We have a show going on here, remember?  
  
(Satine, sheepishly): Yeah. Sorry, Baz, sir.  
  
(Zidler, speaking up): No one's going to!  
  
(Satine, confused): Going to what?  
  
(Zidler, annoyed): Play the Evil Gay Mutant Alien that crash landed in Roswell, New Mexico better than I am!  
  
(Satine, remembering): Oh yeah.  
  
(Everyone, together): So terrifying, maybe they'll laugh before they cry!  
  
(Duke, butting in): And in the end, can someone die?  
  
(Satine, thinking): Hell yeah!  
  
(Everyone, together, again): So damn frightening, the audience will run and hide! So terrifying, some people might just faint and die...!  
  
[End song. Phew.]  
  
(Duke, looking bored): Generally I like it.  
  
~=~=~=~=~  
  
(Chrisitan, narrating): Yippee. Zidler had an investor and a potential "life partner". And the Bohemians finally got a job.  
  
(DJRocky99, menacingly): I thought I warned you about narrating?  
  
(Christian, meekly): Eep!  
  
(DJRocky99, changing her mind): Nevermind. Less work for me. You go ahead, old buddy. Heh heh.  
  
(Toulouse, with a slight staggar): Yay! The Bohemian Revolution is here!  
  
(Christian, unamused): How do you know?  
  
(Toulouse, matter-of-factly): Well, I saw it on TV. Dick Clark was in Time's Square and there was this big glowing ball and he said, "Happy Bohemia-"  
  
(DJRocky99, with a sigh): You guys think WE'RE impossible?!  
  
~=~=~=~=~  
  
[A/N]: Well...I think that'll be a sufficent dosage of maddness for today. I must say, I'm particularly proud of the song, LOL! It's amazing what one can do when one has too much time on one's hands, isn't it? Hehe. Anyway, please read and review and all that good stuff. "One Day I'll Fly Away" will be made over in the next chapter, so be sure to keep an eye...who knows, I might even have it done before the weekend.   
  
So until next time...this is DJRocky99, signing off! 


	9. Tacos, Burritos, and Lightning Bolts

Author: DJRocky99  
  
Description: I'm a sarcastic, cynical, occasionally humorous person who enjoys making fun of other things. The Moulin Rouge is good, but not good enough to escape my insane wrath...oh, and look out folks. This one will never die! Muahahahahaha!  
  
Disclaimer: [sarcasm] I own everything. I own the characters, the plot, the songs, everything. I own fanfiction.net too. All the views, (what few there are), listed in this story absolutely do reflect those of its author as well as everyone else remotely connected to the story in any way. Please sue me. I'm rich and I need to dump some of this cash. Also, I need a reason to get out of the house. [/end sarcasm]  
  
Real disclaimer: Note the [sarcasm] brackets, indicating that none of the above is true. And then, please note that emergency exits are located at the rear and sides of this Fic. Thank you.  
  
Chapter Nine: Tacos, Burritos, and Lightning Bolts...oh my!  
  
~=~=~=~=~  
  
A/N: Yes, it is I, DJRocky99. I've put my negligent personality on the shelf and taken out my reasonably punctual one, smacked my muse around a bit after he refused to cooperate, and been charged with "assault on a defenseless deity" by the police. In other words...all is right with the world.  
  
And more to the point, I've come up with yet another chapter of insanity just for you wonderful folks out there, specifically for my loyal fans/reviewers. I'd just like to point out three things before we get started, however.  
  
(1). Rosemarie - Actually, I cannot take credit for that song. It's called "Amnesia" by the ever-spiffy band Chumbawumba (it's from the Tubthumper CD). I recommend listening to it, just because it has a pretty good beat, in the humblest of my opinions. Hehe. I also sent ya an email in response to the whole French dialect stuff. Hopefully that was cleared up. ;-]  
  
(2). TwystedFate - Rock on with your bad self *snickers* We make quite a looney pair, eh? Suprised the South has been able to contain us this long, LOL!  
  
(3, and probably the most important). Everyone - PLEASE TELL ME IF I SCREW UP! I don't have a beta-reader, and I'm trying to work through all this on my own. If you see something...tell me about it! As I've mentioned before, I like the fluffy-sugar-coated-gooey-lovey-dovey reviews as much as the next author, but my dentist said I need to lay off that kinda stuff. Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated, more than you know. Don't be afraid of hurting my feelings; if, by some off-chance, you acutally *do*, I'll get over it sooner or later.   
  
Alrighty, enough of my babble. On with the show!  
  
~=~=~=~=~  
  
(Rewind): Everyone sang some, the Duke-ius Maximus learned about the play, (appropriately entitled, "Horrific Horrific"), Satine and I continued to create an all-female alliance against the idiots...erm, the guys, Toulouse made a Bohemian-spectacle of himself towards the end, and we were just about ready for another song. Woo.   
  
Right now, Satine is in her elephant, and Christian is high above, in his garret. Action.  
  
~=~=~=~=~  
  
(Baz, impatiently yelling into a bullhorn): Alright folks. Let's get a move on.  
  
(Christian, with his sad puppy-dog eyes): I wonder if Satine is thinking of me.  
  
(Satine, in mock curiosity): I wonder if Christian is thinking about something other than tacos.  
  
(Christian, thinking to himself): Yo quiero...  
  
(Satine, smacking her forehead): Like I have to ask.  
  
(Christian, suddenly remembering that he should be singing sometime soon): As the party was in full swing upstairs, I was in my drab little garret, pondering life's mysteries and wishing for a refreshing bean burrito. Suddenly, Satine danced into my mind, and my dreams of tacos and what could have been, were left behind. I tried to write...but I could think of nothing else but her. And occasionally, about that cute little talking dog that wears the beret.  
  
(DJRocky99, stifling a yawn): Insert music sequence here.  
  
(Satine, completely surprised by the lack of creativity behind this song):   
  
I'm stuck making this up as I go along  
  
Every one of these damn songs  
  
Will my script ever be returned to me?  
  
One day I'll find the criminal  
  
And brainwash him through messages, some subliminal  
  
How could someone steal my script from me?  
  
I signed up for this anyways...what's wrong with me?  
  
Why even be called an "actress" if I don't get to follow along?  
  
(Christian, snickering): Anything that's touched your butt will be worth cash someday!  
  
(Satine, saddened by DJR's sudden writer's block):  
  
One day I'll find the criminal  
  
And brainwash him through messages, some subliminal  
  
Why even be called an "actress" if I don't get to follow along?  
  
One day I'll find, hunt down, kill with a blunt object, the criminal...  
  
(DJRocky99, with a sigh): I am so sorry. Really, I am.  
  
(Satine, in a "motherly" tone of voice): There, there. I know how overworked you are. I just wish I knew who stole my script.  
  
(DJRocky99, truly sorry): Me too. If we ever find who took it...well, let's just say that I've always wondered how long a person could live off of Grape Kool Aid, Twinkies, and C-SPANN. Hmmm...  
  
(Satine, in awe): Ooh, torture. Kinky. Heh.  
  
[Both girls wink at each other. Christian just looks around, seemingly clueless as to where he is, and why he's there. Suddenly, with a slight popping noise, Chrisitan appears atop Suzy.]  
  
(Satine, surprised): Ack!  
  
(Christian, as surprised): Ack!  
  
(Satine, whispering): Go on...say your lines...  
  
(Christian, nodding): Yes, of course. Sorry...didn't mean to scare you. Um, I was just having trouble sleeping and it was all your fault so I thought I'd just magically appear here and tell you all about it.  
  
(Satine, sighing, but deciding to play along): So much for the lines. Anyway, why am I to blame?  
  
(Christian, apprehensively): Wellllllll....I was thinking about tacos, and how tasty it is when you get a fresh tortilla...and the sour cream and lettuce is really cold...and the tomatoes are all diced up into adorable little squares...and-  
  
(Satine, not wanting to listen to another word about Mexican cusine): Get on with it.  
  
(Christian, continuing anyways): -the meat is juicy, but in a good way...and they wrap it up in the cute little patterned paper. But suddenly, out of nowhere, I started thinking about you! I guess the patterned paper, or perhaps the juicy meat [A/N: rimshot. Ba da dump, hey.] reminded me of you. So then, I couldn't stop thinking about you. And I figured, "Eh...maybe if I go over to Suzy and just stare at Satine for a few minutes, I'll get so sick of her, I'll be able to return to my burrito dreams." Pretty smart, huh?  
  
(Satine, on the verge of tears. She knows he's a lost cause.): Yeah. Dandy. Einstein will have tough competition. By the way, you're really talented. (Muttering under breath): Damn contracts with their damn clauses saying I have to pump his damn ego. Damn it.  
  
(Christian, almost hearing Satine): Hold it there, girlfriend. Say WHAT?  
  
(Satine, groaning): Nothing.  
  
(Christian, forging on): So. I think in some other chapter you supposedly mentioned you loved me. But you thought I was a Duke then, and now you know better. So, was it just a ruse, or do you actually like me?  
  
(Satine, amused): Where'd you learn a twenty-five cent word like "ruse"?  
  
(Christian, growling): Shut up.  
  
(Satine, satisfied): I'm a courtesan. That's French for hooker. So, in short, no. I don't like you.  
  
(Christian, visibly disappointed): But...it felt so...right.  
  
(Satine, laughing): Puh-leez. I'm paid to tell guys that I want to have their children. You honestly thought that was the case?  
  
(Christian, at his own stupidity): Yeah. Silly me, like you'd ever fall for a studmuffin such as myself.  
  
(Satine, digging deeper under Christian's skin): Sorry muffin-boy. I don't do baked goods. More to the point, I can't fall in love with anyone. No sirree, nothing doing.  
  
(Christian, hoping to persuade Satine that's not THAT bad a guy): A life without love? That's as depressing as a life without tacos!   
  
(Satine, not bothering to put up much of a fight): Nah. Living without chocolate...now that's depression for ya.  
  
(Christian): No! Love is like...helium!  
  
(Satine, bewildered): How do you figure?!  
  
(Christian, cocky): Well, both love and helium do really weird things to a man's voice.  
  
(Satine, seeing his point): True.  
  
(Christian, dancing around on Suzy's head): Love is a many splintered thing! Love lifts..."things"...where they belong! Wires do, too.  
  
(Satine, shocked): Hey. Watch it, or DJR is gonna have to change the rating on this thing.  
  
(Christian, even more arrogant): What on Earth are you talking about?  
  
(Satine, ignoring the innuendo): Nevermind. Please, carry on.  
  
(Christian, singing loudly and off key): All you need is love!  
  
(Satine, twirling a strand of hair): A girl has got have shoes.  
  
(Christian, singing even more off key): All you need is love!  
  
(Satine, allowing her shop-aholic personality to surface): Without shoes, girls would have the blues!  
  
  
  
(Christian, amazingly persistant): All you need is love!  
  
(Satine, realizing there's no way around the song): Love is just a game. And not even a fun one. Nobody gets to be banker or have a carved peice of metal representing them.  
  
(Christian, continuing): I was made for loving you baby. And, let's be honest...for being in front of the camera. Oh yeah, you were made for loving me.  
  
(Satine, snickering): The easiest way of loving me, baby, is to pay a lovely fee. Please make your check payable to Harold Zidler, care of the Moulin Rouge. Almost forgot: have you got two forms of ID?  
  
(Christian, still singing loudly and off key): Just one hour, give me just one hour!  
  
(Satine, driving the proverbial sword a little deeper): Sure you'll last that long?  
  
[A/N - Rimshot. Oooh. Sorry. Pun off of a pun. I'm really on a roll...on SOMETHING, anyways...tonight.]  
  
(Christian, wide-eyed): In the name of love...one hour in the name of love?  
  
(Satine, refusing to give in to this lunatic's pleas, while trying to exit): There's no way. Read my lips: I've heard that when you pay, you don't leave tips.  
  
(Christian, blocking Satine's escape route): Don't...leave me this way. I can't survive without your sweet love, oh baby, don't leave me this way.  
  
(Satine, trying to be a pain in the butt): How do YOU know my love is sweet? For all you know, I'm bitter. And I am, by the way.  
  
(Christian, narcistically): It doesn't matter; even if you're sweet, I'm the sour, baby, and sweet and sour go together.  
  
(Satine, doubled up in hysterics): You...you're...sour? AHAHAHAHAHAHA!  
  
(Christian, turning a lovely shade of red, realizing his mistake): Oooops.  
  
(Satine, trying to sing through her laughter): You'd...you'd think...people'd had enough...of silly love songs. I know I have.  
  
(Christian, getting back into the song): Me too. But I look around me and I see that ain't so.  
  
(Satine, picky about grammar): Isn't.  
  
(Christian, confused): Huh?  
  
(Satine, realizing that every attempt she's made thus far has been futile): Nevermind. Umm...some people want to fill the world with silly love songs.  
  
(Christian, with attitude): Yeah? And what's wrong with that?! I'd sure like to know...(Christian begins climbing up the lightning rod attached to Suzy's head)...Love lifts us up where we belong!  
  
(Satine, deadpan): Get down. Don't be stupid. Stop.  
  
(Christian, now perched atop the lightning rod): Where eagles fly, and where I go when I'm high!  
  
(Satine, barely keeping her cool): Loves makes you act like you're a fool; you'll throw your life away for one happy...hour.  
  
(Christian, not noticing the dark raincloud overhead): We can be heroes, just for one -  
  
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTTTT.  
  
(Satine, finally smiling): Christian...rest in peace.  
  
(Christian, still alive): Don't worry, my love! It left me nothing more than a scratch. The show must go on!  
  
(Satine, disappointed): Damn. Hey, that part's not until later in the story.  
  
(Christian, shaken): I'm not feeling so good.  
  
(Satine, grateful): Good. On to the next scene.  
  
~=~=~=~=~  
  
(Toulouse, drunk and sitting in the windmill): Anything that's *hiccup* touched my butt...  
  
(Satine, standing below the windmill and yelling up at Toulouse):...will have to be burned some day! Now get down here and help me with Christian!  
  
~=~=~=~=~  
  
[A/N - You cannot begin to imagine how deadly I wanted that lightning bolt to be. Hope this chapter was acceptable; if not...well, there'll be another chapter sooner or later. Hehe. Read and review, por favor. Gracias!]  
  
End disclaimer: No offense intended to anyone of Spanish ancestry, or tacos/burritos everywhere. Or Taco Bell, or that little dog. 


End file.
